


The World Has Turned

by Ponderosa



Category: Iron Man (2008)
Genre: Black Male Character, Canon Character of Color, Community: ij porn_battle, M/M, Rare Pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-01
Updated: 2010-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-05 15:02:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponderosa/pseuds/Ponderosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fury's gaze flicks over Rhodey's face, and the charge in the air makes an abrupt and recognisable shift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Has Turned

"This isn't a game you've walked into," Fury says. He's got a presence to him; not quite the drill-sergeant aura that always manages to kick Rhodey into his best behavior but something a lot more subtle and a lot more dangerous. It kinda rubs Rhodey the wrong way, like Fury's holding all the cards and is the only one up the chain who decides what's Eyes Only and why. He gets the feeling that a lot of things in Fury's world comes down to pulling the right strings at the right time.

"Good thing I don't play games," Rhodey says. There's always a monitoring team in the building, but on this floor and in this wing, his office is dead quiet. The silence only makes the rustle of Fury's coat louder when the guy makes himself comfortable on the edge of Rhodey's desk.

"Your friend does."

"I'm not my friend." Rhodey doesn't like one bit the direction this conversation is heading. He's not Tony's PR squad and he's definitely not an apologist for all the stupid shit Tony gets into, but he's not going to back down and pretend Tony's not important to him.

Fury's body language is hard to read, and Rhodey isn't prepared for the hand that snaps out to grab his throat. Fury's damn fast, his grip efficient, and when Rhodey can't break the hold on the first try, he silently pledges that if he manages to get out of this room alive, he's spending an extra hour on the mat every single day for the next decade.

Fury's face hovers close, staring him down while Rhodey refuses to retreat. When Fury withdraws it's like nothing had happened. Rhodey wonders if he passed the test.

"I need someone I can trust," Fury says. Rhodey hazards that's a yes.

"You can trust Tony."

"I can trust him to be an insufferable thorn in my side. I can trust him to force my hand well before it's time. But most of all, I can trust him to not listen to a word I say."

"And you think he'll listen to me." Rhodey knows Tony a whole lot better than that, but to be fair, things were different since Afghanistan.

"He'd better."

"I'm not his nursemaid."

The snap of Fury's coat and the air it pushes catches up to Rhodey only after the man's back in his face. "I know a lot about you, Lieutenant Colonel, and you know what your file says? Somewhere in there after the part that reads like a romance novel, it says that you're still Stark Industries' military liaison. So, if, at some point during getting your ass drilled into the floor, you'd like to _liaise_ on behalf of your government, I am politely requesting you do so."

Heat crawls sluggishly up the back of Rhodey's neck, and the charge in the air has the hair on his arms standing on end. The growing ache in his knuckles clues him in that he's drawn his fingers into a fist. "Keep my personal life out of this and I'll think about it."

"Nothing about this has to be personal, Rhodes." Fury's gaze flicks over Rhodey's face, and the charge in the air makes an abrupt and recognisable shift. "I don't do personal."

"Yeah?" Rhodey doesn't mean to respond, but his pulse and lungs have other ideas. He doesn't mean to step up and narrow the gap between them to a breath, either. Casual isn't really in his repertoire, and Fury's whole demeanor has him grinding his teeth, but something irrational overrides all that. The man has a presence all right. Rhodey doesn't flinch when Fury's hands slap to the wall and bracket him in the space between the man's arms.

"We understand one other?"

"No games," Rhodey agrees. It's good enough for Fury, who doesn't bother to ask if he's the kissing type before claiming his mouth. He kisses back just as hard, sucking on Fury's tongue until the press of Fury's thigh between his legs has him gasping.

He expects to find himself face first against the wall, but Fury turns everything on its side by dropping down to one knee and tugging open Rhodey's pants. The roaring in Rhodey's ears vanishes, tossing the modest space of his office back into an eerie silence that's broken only by the soft puffs of his own breath and the lewd sounds of Fury sucking him deep.

Rhodey's vision dims he comes so hard, and he slumps against the wall with enough force to rattle the blinds.

Nothing seems real when Fury rises up again, his breath heavy with come. "Next time, you can return the favour," he says. He fixes his coat and Rhodey's too busy jump-starting all higher brain function to notice until the guy's halfway out the door that Fury had tucked him in and zipped him back up.

"Next time," he rasps. Fury glances back, a shadow in the hallway, and Rhodey raises a hand since he doesn't have a clue what he'd planned to say.

Fury doesn't return the wave, but his voice floats back, deep and serious: "Keep your friend out of trouble."

Rhodey sits down heavily in his desk chair, trying to parse through everything that just happened. He picks up a framed photo that had survived dorm walls and barracks alike. "I always try."


End file.
